


Doomworld Has It's Appeal

by canthelpmyselves



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Doomworld AU, Len's a Softie, M/M, Mick to the Rescue, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 21:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21381208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canthelpmyselves/pseuds/canthelpmyselves
Summary: Of course Mick betrayed the Legends for Len. Len had been his anchor for most of their lives. If only this new world wasn't so damn boring.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Mick Rory
Comments: 11
Kudos: 143





	Doomworld Has It's Appeal

Mick Rory was a simple man. He liked simple things. Steal money. Buy beer. Sometimes cut out the middleman and just steal beer. An easy life. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a legend. The only reason he ever went on that tub was because his partner in crime was a world class fucking drama queen. Then Lenny had to go and get himself blown up. Leaving Mick alone and rudderless. He briefly thought about going back to Central. Lisa was running the Rogues now. She could use his muscle. But the thought of Lisa without Lenny was...uncomfortable. 

So he stayed. And he drank. And he listened with half an ear as everyone bitched and blamed each other. Or blamed him. Mostly him. Not that he cared, to be honest. It was all just background noise for the most part. 

Then it wasn’t just noise anymore. It was Lenny. In his head, sure, but at least he had Lenny back. Only Lenny wasn’t happy with him. And then Lenny wasn’t just in his head and he had to choose. Lenny or the legends. Not a difficult choice, to be honest. Lenny never blamed him, unless it really was Mick’s fault, and even then, he forgave and fixed.

Suddenly things were simple again. Steal. Drink. Lenny. So why wasn’t he satisfied?

“You’re doing it again,” Lenny drawled, pulling Mick from his musings.

“Doing what?” he grumbled from the recliner he was relaxing in.

“Pouting,” Lenny said. “I can hear the gears turning in your head.”

Mick shifted only enough to send him a glare. “I’m not pouting. I’m bored.”

“We just robbed a bank this morning,” Lenny pointed out, polishing his cold gun.

“A bank we own,” Mick complained. “We stole our own money.”

Lenny rolled his eyes. “Fine. You’re bored. How about we go get a drink?”

“Saints is a fucking hellhole now,” Mick argued. “No one picks a fight anymore because they don’t want to have to pay you damages.”

Lenny huffed with exasperation. “Fine. How about a new place? The new one over in Keystone maybe?”

Mick sighed and sat up. “Fine. But you’re buying.”

“Whatever, princess,” Lenny snarked.

* * *

The Blue Glass was billed as a family tavern, but it was just as seedy as Saints. (Hmm, maybe it was a _Family_ tavern?) Lenny immediately headed to the pool tables where he had spotted Lisa and her current boytoy, Dillon. Mick, having no interest in listening to them bicker, went straight to the bar. He plopped down on a stool and rapped on the counter to get the bartender’s attention.

“What can I get you, sir?”

Mick looked up and froze. He knew those eyes. Hazel green with flecks of brown and gold. He had seen them many times, framed by that scarlet cowl. The Flash. Barry Allen. “Beer,” he mumbled, unable to take his eyes off the young man. 

What the hell was the Flash doing here? Wait! Wasn’t the Flash dead? Thawne had killed the speedster. He had been pissed, but unable to do anything about it. Maybe this really wasn’t Barry Allen, just looked enough like him to be confusing.

The bartender slid a frosty bottle of Mick’s favorite microbrew in front of him, gave a vague smile and started to turn away. Mick quickly grabbed his wrist. “What’s your name?”

“Barry,” the guy said, looking a little wary. “Barry Allen, Mr. Rory.”

“You know who I am?” Mick asked with surprise. 

Barry frowned slightly. “Of course, Mr. Rory. You and Mr. Snart are part of the Legion. Is something wrong, sir?”

Mick slowly released his wrist and sat back. He was surprised by the wave of guilt that washed over him. Concern for him wasn’t something he was used to seeing in those eyes. And it was a real concern, not that fake concern he used to get from Grey or Hunter on the Waverider.

“No,” he said, picking up his beer. “No, nothin’s wrong.”

Barry nodded, but still looked worried as he hurried away to fill some orders. A few minutes passed before Lenny slid into the seat beside him. He lifted one finger and Barry quickly grabbed a different microbrew and set it before him before swiping away Mick’s empty bottle and replacing it with a fresh one. Mick watched closely but Lenny didn’t seem to recognize Barry or pay him any attention. Maybe it wasn’t the Flash, after all?

Lenny took a drink then looked at him with annoyance. “You look even more grumpy than you did at home. What’s the problem, Mick?”

Before he could answer a Sons of Anarchy wannabe reached across the bartop and grabbed Barry’s upper arm, pulling him close. Barry flinched back, as the guy laughed and grabbed a handful of Barry’s hair and twisting his head to the side. Mick was out of his seat and around the bar in an instant. 

“...have you screaming my name, twink,” the biker was saying. “Now, take that skinny ass out back and wait for me.”

Mick clamped a hand around the back of the guy’s neck and squeezed hard. “Let him go,” he growled.

The guy let go of Barry and tried to swing a punch at Mick, but Mick caught it easily in his free hand. He slammed the guy’s face down on the bar, loving the sound of a bone breaking. He jerked the guy off the stool and threw him down onto the floor. He immediately sent a brutal kick to the guy’s ribs before stepping down on his forearm.

“Now,” Mick growled, towering over the man. “How about you scream my name?”

Seconds later everyone in a ten foot radius could smell the urine soaking through the guy’s pants as he begged Mick not to kill him. One glance at Barry’s wide, fearful eyes had Mick dragging the bastard outside and beating him to within an inch of his life. By the time Mick was done, his knuckles were bleeding and he was breathing heavy.

He turned to head back into the bar only to freeze when he found himself looking at Barry. Lenny was leaning against the wall by the door, watching calmly. Barry took a couple of steps forward before slowly reaching out and taking one of Mick’s hands in his. Mick felt his chest tighten as Barry bit his bottom lip and brushed a thumb under the knuckles. 

“There’s a first aid kit. In the back,” Barry said quietly. “I can bandage these for you.”

Mick shivered as Barry’s thumb continued to brush over his skin. From the corner of his eye he saw Lenny smirk knowingly before slipping back inside. He cleared his throat gruffly. “Sorry about that guy,” he mumbled.

Barry looked up at him through his lashes. “Why did you do it?” he asked. “Why did you defend me?”

Mick gave a slight shrug. “Wanted to.”

Barry caught his bottom lip between his teeth for a couple of seconds before quickly leaning up and pressing a tiny kiss to Mick’s cheek. Mick’s jaw dropped, his cheeks heating up with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure.

“What was that for?’ he asked.

Barry shrugged. “Wanted to,” he said shyly, his own cheeks bright red. He turned and tugged Mick’s hand to get him to follow. “Come on,” he said with a smile. “I’ll have your hands fixed up in no time.”

* * * 

Len waved over the replacement bartender and ordered another beer. From his spot at the bar he had a good vantage point for watching his sister and a clear view of the employee only door. According to his internal clock, Mick had been back there for almost an hour. He smirked as he silently congratulated himself.

He had known, when they used the Spear, that it was up to him to protect himself, Mick and Lisa. One of the things he had made sure the Spear gave him, were the same memories of what happened during the Legends and after his death that Mick had. He needed to know what had brought Mick so low. Once they began creating this new world, he used that knowledge to work things to their advantage. Keystone and Central City were their playground. He made sure Lisa was safe and happy. He put a few safeguards in place for a couple of his favorite rogues, like Rathaway and Baez. And he made sure to protect his favorite nemesis, Scarlet.

He made Thawne forget Barry had been the Flash, focusing that mantle on West’s kid. Being the Flash had almost broken Scarlet. Len hadn’t liked that one bit. The kid had moxy. He was smart. Kind. A truly good person. Len hadn’t wanted to see that destroyed. He had kept an eye on Barry from the start of Doomworld. Sure, he wasn’t a superhero anymore, but he was still the same kid at heart. He still had that sunshine-bright smile and that generous belief in others. He treated even the most degenerate scum with respect. Hell, if he wasn’t so damn perfect for Mick, Len might have taken a shot, himself. 

The employee door opened and Mick walked out looking smug. Right behind him came Barry looking thoroughly debauched, but smiling adorably. Barry took his spot behind the bar again as Mick sat down beside him.

“So?” Len asked with a leer.

Mick turned pink but grinned. “Nice place. May have to make it my regular bar.”

Len chuckled and signaled Barry to bring them two more beers. He watched as Mick’s hand brushed over Barry’s as he took his bottle. He loved it when his plans worked out perfectly.


End file.
